


The Curious Incident of the Rearranged Furniture In the Nighttime

by Bobcatmoran



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Bini, Canon Era, surprise furniture rearranging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:25:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2446934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bobcatmoran/pseuds/Bobcatmoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living with an eccentric medical student can sometimes be hazardous to your health. Or at least your shins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Curious Incident of the Rearranged Furniture In the Nighttime

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in response to a Tumblr prompt from C-Chan. Thanks for the inspiration!

Living with an eccentric medical student can sometimes be an adventure. The leeches, for one, living in a jar on the bookshelf. The occasional body part taken home for additional study. Having to reassure said eccentric medical student that, “No, Joly, your tongue doesn’t look furred, and if it were growing a furry coat then all we would have to do is get it a matching hat.” And then, on a somewhat drizzly March night, Bossuet learned of another hazard.

The party had been excellent. Good company, good music, good food, and a punch made in the English style which was nothing short of spectacular. Perhaps Bossuet shouldn’t have had quite so many glasses, but it would have been a shame to put such an excellent concoction to waste. But now the hour was so late as to almost be early, and bed was sounding like just the thing. 

Joly had doubtless gone to bed hours earlier, having hospital rounds early in the morning, and Bossuet could hear him snoring softly in the bedroom. Fortunately, Joly was a fairly sound sleeper, and hopefully wouldn’t be woken by his roommate sneaking in. 

So, coat on the hook by the door, hat hung over it. And boots off, one, two…oh, there went a sock along with the second one, probably stuck somewhere down the toe. No matter. The floor was cold on Bossuet’s bare foot now, but fishing out the missing stocking was going to be entirely too much effort at this point. His trousers were spattered with mud, so off they went, too, and personal experience had taught him that sleeping in a waistcoat was an excellent way to get it hopelessly wrinkled.

Trousers and waistcoat could be draped over the back of the chair that was…that Bossuet could swear was supposed to be right there. He knew Joly’s rooms like the back of his hand and hadn’t bothered with a light. He groped for the chair, and there it was, a few steps forward. Perhaps he was drunker than he thought.

All right, into the bedroom. Careful, step over that board that creaked, a step to the left, four steps forward, and…

…and Bossuet let out a stifled yelp of surprise as on step two-and-a-half, he barked his shins on the edge of the bed and, flailing, fell forward onto the sleeping Joly.

"Wuzza smeunaguh," Joly said incomprehensibly, jerking awake. "Issa…oh. B’ssuet. You’re home."

"I’d hoped not to wake you," Bossuet apologized. 

“‘S alright,” Joly said drowsily. “‘m getting up early anyway.” A pause, then, as his brain kicked into gear, “Not this early, though. It’s still pitch dark.”

"Sorry about that. I think I had a little too much punch. My navigational abilities seem to be off." Bossuet rolled off of where he had fallen on top of Joly and onto his side of the bed. 

"Mm, surprised you tried to get here in the dark. Didn’t you see my note?"

"What note?" Bossuet asked, sliding under the blankets. 

"The one I left on the table for—oh, but it’s dark, you wouldn’t have seen it. I rearranged the furniture while you were out."

"Ah. So my internal compass is still properly calibrated."

"Mm-hm. Speaking of compasses, I made sure to align the bed with mine. Improves the blood circulation, you see, and we’ll sleep better as a result."

Privately, Bossuet didn’t think either of them had been having trouble sleeping, but out loud he said, “That’s good. G’night, Joly.”

"Night."


End file.
